


The First Three Days

by Goodneighbor_Neighbor (Fan_by_Proxy)



Series: Commonwealth Kinks [2019 Prompt List] [7]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Alcohol, Barebacking, Clothes cutting, Clothes on sex, Clothes tearing, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Insecurity, Masturbation, Object Insertion, Outdoor Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Sole has a little subdrop in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:42:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24016906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fan_by_Proxy/pseuds/Goodneighbor_Neighbor
Summary: What starts as a night of silly kink-fulfillment and raunchy activity ends with an honest heart-to-heart in the bathtub.
Relationships: John Hancock/Female Sole Survivor
Series: Commonwealth Kinks [2019 Prompt List] [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727050
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29





	The First Three Days

Edward made his way down the stairs of the Rail, cheek still throbbing where Miss Emogene had raked him hard. Wilhemina was already gone and Jack’s teeth were dropping like he’d been hit in the face with an irradiated bat; the end was clearly coming up hard and he was just so _tired_. He couldn’t decide if he was going to actually miss any of them, or if it was just that they’d all spent some two hundred-plus years together. That was something to think about in a dim room, with some cheap whiskey, a cigarette, and a siren in the background; that’s why he always came to the Rail when he was on his own time and needed a drink. It was enough of the right kind of dive that if he closed his eyes and didn’t breathe in too deep, he could make believe a little--wind back the clock to before the bombs fell, even back to before he started working for Cabot when the night was really good.

Ok, so maybe he wasn’t _actually_ going to miss them; just that they were the last little bits of the old days Edward had left to him. It wasn’t like he wanted to _wallow_ in the past, he wasn’t like Kent or Mr. Vault-Tec (whatever the hell that guy’s _actual_ name was); sometimes he just wanted to say something like ‘man, remember when Fancy Lads actually had creme in the center’ and have someone answer back with a ‘yeah’ instead of ‘what the hell are you talking about’.

Even on the trips he couldn’t quite get his head right to pretend, the Rail was usually pretty good to have a gal or two who’d take him down the alley at a reasonable price. Paying for it galled him, even after all these years…but maybe after the family finally kicked off, he could start building something permanent somewhere with someone, since he wouldn’t have to be sitting on a million crazy damn secrets.

The place was pretty full up by the time Edward got down there; no stools left at the bar and the couches were all full. The couple of little tables wobbled and tended to tip drinks, so most of the locals usually avoided them, and even _they_ were almost all full. It looked like one of those nights where he was gonna have to guard a bottle under the stars.

“ _Edward_!” The cry came from behind him as he was trying to get a shoulder in near the bar and order the bottle.

He turned, frowning a little. It was a little hard to hear at the bar at that moment, so Edward wasn’t _quite_ sure if he’d heard who and what he’d _thought_ he heard.

But he had--the wild girl with the great aim was sitting at one of the wobbly tables with Hancock. Edward wondered how he’d missed the frock coat, at least--her dark hair was easy enough to miss in the smoke. She was less easy to miss with her arm up and fingers waggling in his direction. “ _Edward, viens par ici!_ ”

It was an open seat, at least. Edward managed to shuffle his way over and sit down, giving Hancock a curt, respectful nod. “Mayor Hancock.”

The other ghoul winked and raised his beer bottle in a toast before taking a sip.

Edward then nodded at Yvette. “Evening; doing alright?”

She nodded. “Magnolia is debuting a new song, _voila la foule_ ,” Yvette said, gesturing around them.

“That explains the crowd.” He eased down into the available seat, trying not to jostle the table. There was a glass of wine in front of the sharpshooter, and it would’ve been an embarrassing shame to be the one that tipped it onto her.

“What will you drink? I can go and get.” she said brightly.

Edward was taken aback. When he’d first staked her out for hire months and months ago, and approached her, she’d been drawn and tense and serious; looked like she hadn’t smiled in years and wouldn’t smile for more years. She’d softened a little while they worked together, been a little friendlier, but it was still a far cry from the beaming beauty who’d flagged him down. “Whiskey, if there’s any left.”

Yvette nodded, sliding out of her seat and squeezing past Hancock. She trailed her hand up his arm and across his back, bumping his chair with her hip on the way by.

Hancock laughed, turning in his seat to watch her sashay. The swing in her hips was something else; it had only gotten slinkier since they’d started fooling around, and he loved that fact. He also loved the way the shorts were sticking to her, riding high on the thigh and really emphasizing the roundness of her ass. It was damn near indecent; and he loved that too--he was just a fool in love from head to toe.

Something had definitely changed since the last time Edward had seen her; some kind of load had come off her shoulders or something. He was glad for that for her, but something didn’t quite make sense to him--a girl gets up, runs her hand up a guy’s arm, teases him with a slinky little hip bump, odds were ten-to-one they were fooling around. Now it wasn’t any secret that Goodneighbor’s mayor was a huge flirt and that he messed around like any other hot-blooded guy…but all the signs pointed to the two of them messing around and that’s just not what happened in the Commonwealth.

“Staring a little hard there, my friend.”

Edward came out of the reverie with a jolt, not realizing he’d let his head swivel like that. “Hey, sorry--” he started, hands going up in half-surrender.

Hancock laughed. “Hey, it’s a free country. Can’t blame you, I been doing the same thing for three days straight.” He grinned. “Three. Days. _Straight_.”

Edward frowned, feeling the skin on his brows crack and split drily. “Wait, you aren’t saying…?”

“If it wasn’t Magnolia’s night, I’d be singing it.” Hancock replied, emptying his bottle. “Not to get too personal, because we don’t really know each other, but a guy’s _gotta_ brag sometimes.” He really wanted to brag, to everyone everywhere. Not about the sex--although it was _beyond_ brag-worthy--but about the fact that he had the Commonwealth’s best gal on his arm, for more than just an hour. But Hancock was getting some help tempering that urge, in the form of a dead man who was currently standing behind Magnolia glaring at him. Still, he needed to tell somebody and Deegan knew enough to be impressed, but wasn’t around enough to make shit tense or awkward.

Edward couldn’t keep his mouth from dropping open.

“Careful, don’t let her catch you drooling.” Hancock teased. His mood was _fantastic_ ; good booze, good sex, a high just high enough to buzz without taking him out of commission in the pants. He was _even_ a little giddy…it was probably time to taper off the chems for the night.

“Sorry.” Edward coughed, hand to his mouth to physically put himself in check. “Uh…congratulations.” he mumbled, feeling a flare of jealousy. The sharpshooter was a good-looking gal after all, and apparently not averse to a few missing pieces on a man.

“Don’t look so miserable man, the night’s young. Who knows how it’ll go?” Hancock said off-handedly, turning back around to pinpoint where _his_ girl was. His girl--Yvette was _his_ beautiful girl. It was definitely time to taper off the chems.

Yvette had finally gotten some drinks, a glass, and a box of Fancy Lads, and was balancing everything neat and pretty as she wiggled and twisted past people to get back to the table. “ _Et voila_ \--whiskey for you, ale for _you_ ,” she winked at Hancock, “and I also managed to grab these, if either one of you wants something sweet to go down with the music.”

Hancock grinned, grabbing his beer and reaching up to tuck hair behind her ears; she’d done some kind of cute, twisty thing that showed off her neck, but it was starting to unravel. “You know what you just said, sweetheart?” He asked; Yvette had a wild streak, could play some real sexy games with words, but sometimes she didn’t catch all the entendres. It made him feel smart when _he_ did, and could fill her in.

Edward watched the smiles, the hair-tucking; they were _definitely_ fooling around. Whether it was for keeps, he wouldn’t make any bets.

“What? About the music--” she started, then gasped as she caught Edward’s face in a decent amount of light from the fixtures swinging overhead from the noise. “ _Edward_ , your face! What happened?” Yvette’s hands came up, reaching for his face.

He would’ve let her touch him too, but Hancock leaned forward and stretched his arm out to stop her. “Beautiful, remember what I toldja?”

Yvette made a face. “Sorry--bad habit.” she explained, drawing her hands back neatly.

Hancock sat back in his seat, hands going to her waist to pull her backwards onto his thigh. She looked back and sat cautiously, then turned her attention back to Edward.

Edward wasn’t sure what any of that meant. He kind of regretted not getting a little attention on his face, even as the scratches on his cheek and his splitting brows burned. “I’m alright, really.” he mumbled, grabbing up the bottle to pour himself one blindly. Bringing it his lips, he caught the scent of oak and spice under the rads--it was whiskey after all. “Family’s not doing well, is all. Emogene and her temper.” He said shortly, gesturing to his face.

“Oh _no_.” she breathed. “They are out of their serum?” Yvette asked as she settled back against Hancock and felt his warm cheek against her arm and his arm around her waist. Some time in the past three days, they’d jointly come to the decision that they did not want a subtle romance. At least in Goodneighbor, they would be free and affectionate, and whatever talk happened, it happened.

He nodded, taking another sip, trying not to wonder how heavy she was, what kind of weight she was putting on Hancock’s thigh, what kind of weight she’d put on _his_ thigh sitting pretty like that. “Time’s hittin’em hard…and I think the rads too. At least that’s what Jack’s looking like.”

Yvette hissed through her teeth. “Not a good end…are you ok? Do you have plans?”

“Just going day to day now.” Edward said, draining the glass and filling it again. “Jack’s plan was always to lock up the house when it came down to the last, I guess I’ll probably do that.”

“Seems like a waste.” Yvette replied. “Solid, still well-defended…creepy enough to put off most other people.” she added with a snort.

Hancock laughed, bouncing his leg just once. “You ain’t kidding!”

Yvette flushed red, thighs jumping as she tensed. _“_ _Arrête ç_ _a polisson!”_ she swatted his leg.

Edward was going to need a lot more whiskey if they were going to hang around like this for much longer. “Eh, I’ve spent more than two hundred years sleeping in the basement of that place, I’m kinda ready to move on.” he said.

“You could always move upstairs.” Yvette replied with a shrug. “I would be tempted, but I can also understand where you think.” she smiled. “Bunker Hill is always looking for guards.” she added.

“So I’ve heard.” Edward said drily. The whiskey was sitting warmer than usual and he was starting to have a hell of a time keeping his eyes on her face instead of where she was sitting on Hancock’s thigh, or the buttons on her shirt. “Why are you worrying so much, I keep telling you I’ll be fine.”

“I like you. And you make good work, you should be paid for being good.”

Either she was talking garbled, or the whiskey was hitting him _way_ harder than he thought.

“C’mon, beautiful, let the man drink in peace.” Hancock murmured, giving her a squeeze. As much as he was enjoying her hot little body sitting on his lap like that, he was about done waiting.

“Sorry. Take care Edward, ok?” she smiled, leaning forward to pat Edward’s drinking arm lightly before getting off Hancock’s lap and start picking her way through the crowd to get to the stairs.

Edward saw Hancock roll his eyes as he got up, brushing out the creases in his pants.

“Sorry--I’m working with her on the handsy thing.” Hancock said. “She don’t mean anything by it.” He didn’t mind for himself; _his_ beautiful gal could touch on him all she wanted, but a lot of Ghouls had gone so long without someone soft being soft on them, it really freaked them out. Not to mention sometimes the skin was just too tender; like poor Deegan sitting there with a face like a dry pond bed. Things with Yvette were still so new, he still couldn’t quite fathom why or how she could be so un-bothered by the feel of rad-burned skin.

Edward shook his head. “S’alright. Old habits die hard.” he raised his glass to the ghoul mayor in salute. “At least she’s not a hugger.”

“Well…she can be.” Hancock said with a grin. “Take it easy Deegan.”

Edward rolled his eyes. It was a mercy they were taking off; he’d done enough third-wheeling professionally not to want to keep doing it on his time off.

Hancock caught up to Yvette halfway up the stairs on the way out. It was just them, so he took the opportunity to grab her ass hard and low, pressing his fingers up where it was nice and moist. If the shorts had been a lighter color, there would’ve been no way to miss the wet spot.

She hissed. “You are _such_ an asshole, I cannot believe you convinced me to do this!” Yvette swatted at him, nearly missing the next step.

Hancock’s hands immediately went to her waist to steady her. “Hey, we could’ve gone to the bathroom any time and taken care of things.” he said, unable to keep the growl out of his voice. “You were doing pretty fine earlier.”

“ _Asshole_.” she whispered back, cheeks flushed and struggling not to smile. “ _D_ _éviant_ …pervert…” Yvette lost the struggle, shaking her head and loosing a breathy laugh.

“You love it.” Hancock taunted, wrapping an arm around her waist. “C’mon beautiful, let’s take in some night air.” He led Yvette out the door and down the alley next to the Rail.

Fortunately for them, nobody was camped out in it for the moment. Hancock pushed Yvette against the brick wall and dragged her hips back. “You look _so_ goddamn good.” he breathed. “You gonna let me do what I want, huh?” Hancock slotted his hips right up against her, grinding against the wet spot as hard as he could to make her moan.

“I hate you _so_ much right now, you have no idea.” she whispered fiercely.

“Well if _that’s_ the case…” Hancock stepped back, just admiring her.

“If you leave me alone here like this, I will stab you in your sleep.” Yvette half turned from the wall. Her thighs trembled, and all Hancock’s grinding had done was nudge his little tease around inside.

“ _Ooh_ , you get grumpy when you’re all teased, huh?” Hancock gently turned her back, sliding his hands down her arms to guide her hands to the right place to brace. He nudged her legs further apart. “Well don’t worry, I’m done teasing--hold real still for me, beautiful. Don’t move a perfect muscle.”

Yvette swallowed and nodded. The part that was coming next, she was a little nervous about. But Hancock knew his knives like she knew her revolver; he was practically a surgeon with them. “Alright _Jean_ …all yours.” she breathed her consent.

Hancock licked his lips, pulling the switchblade out of his coat and flicking it open. It gleamed in the yellow light from overhead, freshly oiled and sharpened _just_ for this moment. His hand was steady as he dragged the very tip of it over the wet seam that was splitting her in that position. Hancock rested his other hand on her lower back to keep himself steady while the threads popped and the fabric pulled apart. _There_ she was, puffy and pink and _ready;_ so ready that as soon as the seam split far enough that she was just _out_ in that alley, a thick string of her slickness started to drip down. “ _Fuck_.” he couldn’t believe his eyes or his luck.

“ _Jean_ , have mercy, _please_.” Yvette whispered.

“Hush, beautiful, just let a man enjoy.” he murmured as his fingers went down to catch that drip and the one that followed after it, bringing it to his lips to lick up. Then Hancock knelt down, spreading her lips with one hand. He gave a low whistle as the neck of the beer bottle came into view. “See if you can give a little push, help me get closer to it.” Hancock commanded.

Yvette reached down, fingers to her swollen, aching clit. Sitting down with a beer bottle all the way inside, in shorts that in her mind didn’t leave much to the imagination in spite of Hancock’s reassurances, had been hard enough. Then Hancock had pulled her down on his strong thigh, bounced her, jostled her, encouraging the bottle to twist around. She’d been ready to cry by the time they got to Ham at the door of the Rail. She wasn’t _entirely_ sure why Hancock had this fantasy, but it was certainly creative! It was a quick hard climax there in the alley; out-of-doors with the threat of being discovered would have had her off just as fast even without this wild teasing.

More slickness dripped down and the neck of the bottle was now close enough he could get a solid grip on it and pull it free. There was a sucking pop as it came away, and Yvette moaned. Hancock dragged himself to his feet using her hips, breaking the lace on his pants getting it loose enough to drop down so he could get his cock free and inside her; pinning her to the wall with the first thrust.

Yvette bit down on her forearm to try and stifle her noise. After the unyielding hardness of the glass, Hancock’s cock felt even more unusual. His tip was rounder and softer than she was used to, but the radiation scarring had given him thick raised ridges from just after the head all the way to his pelvis. Every twist of his hips made them scrub her now overly-sensitive walls with a vengeance.

“ _How_ are you still this tight after that?” Hancock growled in her ear, hands reaching around to cup her breasts, squeezing them painfully. He grabbed the shirt and pulled hard, scattering buttons on the ground.

Yvette huffed, screaming into her arm as she came; in three days he had already found so many ways to make her weak and satisfied. It was a little scary to think what he would learn to do after another three days.

Hancock pulled out abruptly, stroking himself to a finish and painting the ground between her feet with cum. It hurt, but they were running low on RadAway; he’d have to see about getting a bigger stash together, the way they were going. Her frustrated whimper brought him back to sense. “Beautiful, that’s the way it is, alright?” Hancock murmured, turning her around gently to kiss her all kind and soft. He tasted blood. “Hey, hey did I hurtcha?” Hancock pulled back immediately to asses her face. Had he gotten too rough, scraped her against the wall? He’d kick his own ass for being that stupid!

Yvette shook her head, holding up her arm to show the deep bite mark, grinning sheepishly.

Hancock laughed, kissing the spot just above it. “You know, you coulda just yelled.”

“And have the entire Neighborhood Watch come to see?”

He grinned. “I mean there are worse things, beautiful.”

“You are d _éviant_ _extraordinaire_ and I _demand_ your coat before walking out of this alley.” Yvette replied firmly, hands going shakily to her hips in mock sternness.

Hancock took a step back to survey the damage, about to tease her with a ‘no’ that died before his eyes got past her waist. The shorts were still holding together around her thighs and at the waist, but the rest of the seam was just gone--her soft belly with its pink stretching scars was on full display, along with her puffy swollen sex and the dark tufts of hair that cradled it. Hancock’s eyes traveled further up; her breasts shook with each breath, framed by the fluttering edges of the blouse. “…yeah, yeah you definitely need this.” he shrugged out of it and held it out for her to step into.

Yvette slipped her arms into it and hugged it around her body, nuzzling the collar. “It smells like you.” she explained to Hancock’s inquisitive look.

He coughed, looking away while offering his hand. _It smells like you_ rattled around his head as the rush of their sex, of the wildness of the night, settled down. The words made his insides squirm with pleasure and guilt.

Yvette took his hand easily, pressing close to him as they strolled out of the alley towards the Old State House, feeling shaky and a little teary. That was easy enough to hide, all wrapped up in Hancock’s coat, holding his hand, on the way back up to his place.

Eventually, she knew, they would have to leave the comforts of Goodneighbor and his bed. That _she_ would have to go back to her life, back to the Railroad, back to the hardest decision of she had ever been forced to make. But for the moment, for the night, none of that mattered.

Hancock got her rushed up the stairs and back to his room, and drew her a bath. It was another weird thing he liked; watching a pretty girl get clean after getting down and dirty. He sat on the lid of the commode and savored every little movement as Yvette went through the motions. She was strangely quiet though, eyes cast down instead of throwing him flirty looks and inviting him in. “Hey…you uh…you ok, beautiful?” He asked.

Yvette turned in the lukewarm water, resting her arms on the edge of the tub and her chin on top of her arms. “It has been awonderful, _exhausting_ three days, _Jean_.” she started.

Oh hell. Oh _hell_. Had he pushed too hard, gotten a little too weird for her? Or was she finally starting to get bothered by…well everything about him?! “Scary way to start a sentence, beautiful.” he kidded in spite of a dry mouth.

“I am sorry…” Yvette sighed, resting her cheek on her arms. Tears stung her eyes, and as hard as she tried to will them away, they were starting to fall.

And now she was crying. Well…it had been a _swell_ three days, hadn’t it? Hancock swallowed, getting off the commode to sit on the ground by the tub, resting his cheek against the porcelain and willing himself to stay tough. “Go ahead, beautiful. Just say what you gotta say.”

“I have to go. I…I would give so much to just stay here, making love with you, all day, every day, for the next two hundred years.” Yvette sniffed. “But…Shaun is still out there. His Institute still plans madness. They still have to be stopped…you said before, that you would go with me. That you had my back…but…this is so much more than I thought it would be. I want you with me _Jean_ , but I am afraid to ask you to join me in _such_ danger.”

Hancock took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He rolled his neck, trying to crack the crick that had twisted up at the thought of losing out after just three days. “You still love me?”

Yvette raised her head, surprised. “Of course!”

Hancock nodded. “You still believe me when I say I love you?”

She nodded. “Yes, without doubts.”

Hancock shifted to his knees, gripping the side of the tub to help pull himself to his feet. Then he stepped into the tub with her, sitting down hard and sending water sloshing over the sides. It didn’t matter he was still mostly dressed; the only thing off him was his coat, laid neatly aside on the couch the way on Yvette did it when she handled it. He sat in that tub with her, feet flat on either side of her hips, feeling her little toes against his crotch as he tried not to sit right on them. Hancock reached out, wrapping his arms around her knees where she had drawn them to her chest to quickly make room for him.

Yvette was surprised at the move, to say the least. Hancock, fully clothed, in the tub with her, staring at her with unblinking eyes. “ _Jean_?”

“You see me sitting here, all in? I’m _all in,_ beautiful. To the end and as far as you’ll have me after. Am I making myself clear here?” he said fiercely.

Yvette looked away, feeling the tears roll free and fast. It hit her all over again, just like the day on the platform, how much she loved this man.

Hancock waited, ignoring the uncomfortable way wet clothes always stuck to him. If she needed to cry, he could let her cry and not run away. If she needed to lash out, he could take the hit. But if she started trying to do something stupid and noble like leave him behind; he wasn’t going to fucking take that.

“Can we take a few more days, just for us?” she whispered, finally turning her face back to him.

Hancock gazed into those watery, shocking eyes. “Beautiful, it’s your plan. I’m all in, remember?” he looked down. “This was a lot more romantic in my head.” he said, not for any real reason except the observation was smacking him in the face.

Yvette couldn’t help the awkward gulp of laughter that came. “Oh _Jean_ , it is the most romantic thing you have done for me yet.” very carefully, trying to mind her elbows and his elbows and the confines of the tubs edge, Yvette got her hands free and on his face, tracing the line of his cheekbones, around the nose hole, the shape of his lips with her thumbs. “Does this mean now you will _join_ me in the baths instead of just watching?”

Hancock closed his eyes, letting her explore his face. It made his skin burn; not the rad burn, not the dry too-much-booze b urn, a different kind of burn that felt a lot like the way his heart twisted when she said she loved him. “I like watching.” he said with a shrug; he didn’t want to admit the irrational fear he had, that he was a walking Rad-factory and doing something like soaking in the tub together was going to hurt her like too much sex without enough RadAway.

“You can do both.” she whispered as she continued to stroke his face. “Three more days. Then we go, and we plan. And you and I stay together for good and for bad.”

Hancock nodded, nuzzling her hands. Her hands were so soft, and gentle. “Right. And after it’s all over, we don’t leave the bed for like…a month? No, no two months.” He opened his eyes, grinning. She was smiling too; not the weak, watery, fearful smile but the big, warm open one that made her wrinkle her nose and really shined her eyes.

“Compromise--it’s three months, but we make use of the bed, the couch, and this tub.” Yvette said, a giggle bubbling in the back of her throat.

“Balcony too?” Hancock said, half-joking. The _idea_ of railing her in front of the whole neighborhood, it was kind of a hot idea to think on. In reality he’d probably just finger her on the sly and pull her inside when it got to be too much for the both of them.

“I’ll think about it.” she tempered; sometimes with Hancock, it wasn’t always easy to tell what was a real joke, what was a ‘this is a joke if it’s going to bother you’ joke, and what was a confession masquerading as a joke. It wasn’t a good or a bad thing about him; he was just a man of many humors, and she liked that about him.

Hancock chuckled. “I gotta say, I kinda like this planning-for-the-future shit.”

Yvette wiggled closer, making their awkward cross of limbs in the tub even more tangled as she worked her way close enough to be able to press her forehead to Hancock’s. “ _Moi aussi_ …”

That, _that_ he understood. Hancock sighed, closing his eyes again. Maybe he _would_ start getting into the tub with her more often… _without_ clothes.

**Author's Note:**

> This took so many turns while I was writing? I love Edward Deegan and I started writing with the intent of it going into more intimate, potentially threesome-ier things, and got so distracted lol! Never fear though, because he is DEFINITELY gonna get some love in some later prompt, because he is a delight


End file.
